Alacritous Regress

Installment 17: We're Gonna Need a Bigger Boat

I groan softly as I start to wake. Despite the full night of sleep, I feel terrible, as though I've slept with a 50 kilogram weight on my chest. I crack my eyes open, but instead of the white plastic bulkhead of my cabin, all I see is a fuzzy yellow-orange. I close my eyes and struggle with a deep breath. The weight seems to shift around on my chest.

Then the claws dig in.

My eyes fly open. Sitting on my chest, staring into my eyes, is a lion cub. I bolt upwards and the young Magi roles off me. They spring back to their feet and growl at me. I back up and trip over a large mass lying on the ground. I let out an oomph as the cub pounces and lands squarely on me.

Quick, the shape I tripped over, looks over at me and the cub. "Stop," she growls. The cub looks over at her and backs away.

"Sorry," they mumble.

Quick just lets out a low growl and lays back down.

I stand up and look around at where I had slept. It isn't one of the outlying tents, but rather a mud hut. The walls have a mesh of twigs or reeds visible under a thin layer of hardened mud and the roof is made of thatch. The floor is covered in assorted pelts, and sprawled across those furs are the members of the landing party.

Rivan is sprawled across one side of the hut, belly down with her chin resting on her hands. Arron is flopped down on the other side. Laying across the middle of the hut is Quick and another two lion Magis. Slumped against the wall next to the door, watching the interior of the hut in a half-sleep daze with his stave resting nearby, is Brian.

"Where's our Aussie friend?" I ask him.

"No idea, he was already gone when I woke up," he says.

"He can't get into too much trouble," I say. "Right?"

"He's essentially a telepathic Blait with combat training, if he goes looking for trouble, he'll find it."

"Rise and shine." Storm Eye walks into the hut. The elderly Magi's fur has a tinge of gray and her eyes have a depth to them, but otherwise she looks to be in her mid thirties. Her fur is sleek and covers the muscular body of a person that has to work for their food. She's wearing a tunic, the first Magi here I've seen wearing clothes, and a sash of blue cloth.

The two sleeping Magis start to shift. They stretch out their lean bodies and yawn, revealing mouths full of sharp teeth. Rivan also begins to wake, flicking her eyes open a few time before standing up. Arron on the other hand, bolts upright and springs to his feet. His hand flies to his waist and grabs for a nonexistent weapon.

"Time to earn your keep," says Storm Eye.

"We have to work?" asks Arron.

"Yeah." I recognize the Magi speaking as the one that escorted us to the village last night, Stalking Grass. "You didn't expect us to give you what you wanted without payment, did you?" Arron starts mumbling something unflattering in an alien language.

"Me fine with work," Rivan mumbles as she stretches her arms. "What you have us do?"

"How much weight can you carry?" Storm asks.

"Hundred kilos, easy," Rivan tells her.

"Golden Sky," Storm says to the second Magi, "Go get water, and take the alien with you."

Golden Sky, the other Magi in the hut, looks at the Blait towering over her with a mixed expression. "Ok," she says, staring at Rivan out of the corner of her eye. The two of them leave the hut, grabbing their weapons from where they rest by the door.

"Have you seen our other companion?" I ask. "The tall one without the big ears?"

"The telepath?" she says. "He's been up for a while now, volunteer for any task we'll let him do." I nod in acknowledgment. "What's his story?" she asks.